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1.
“Well this ain’t happened in a while,” is Nos’ first reaction to meeting with Ziraj. One of the leaders of the Zhentarim instead of the usual footsoldiers that Nos is typically called in to help heal. Humans and elves and a few scattered others but mostly just humans. Humans that Nos tends to tower over. Coupled with the fact he’s quite a bit stronger than he looks and the fact that his armour is thin enough to hide underneath his clothes it’s not very often that Nos feels small.
Ziraj, however, towers over Nos.
It’s not that he cares, per say. It’s just that he’s not used to it anymore. He stopped being smallest in the room when he was fourteen and it’s been a rare day since he was sixteen that he’s stood in front of someone and had to look up.
Nos can feel the good humour coming off Ziraj but the half-orc has opted to pull Nos out of bed for this meeting in the middle of the day. Rude of him. Nos considers refusing to help the next time the Zhents come knocking and telling them to pull their boss out of bed for their complaints but he knows he won’t. Garhak might not be around anymore to disapprove of Nos’ more graceless tendencies but that doesn’t mean the paladin isn’t still able to get Nos to behave.
Years dead and the goliath is still able to make Nos play nice with others.
“You being short?” Ziraj rumbles in reply.
“Hey, listen here you!” Nos scowls at Ziraj. The lights are out and the curtains drawn but a slice of sunlight cuts over Nos’ face and makes it impossible to see anything. He knows it’s probably on purpose - he’s made it known to the Zhentarim to not call on him before sundown. “I ain’t short, you just got giant’s blood in you or some shit!”
2.
The robot sitting at the Blackstaffs side feels wrong is Nos’ immediate thought upon meeting it. The Blackstaff introduces them - Ahriman, not a name that Nos can place the origin from but he’s never been good at geography since he’s never actually found a map he could read.
“This one greets you,” Ahriman says while standing and holding out its hand to shake and the feeling of wrong just gets worse.
Ahriman isn’t too much taller than Nos. Just a few inches, barely a handful. But Nos can see the slouch to Ahriman’s back and despite only seeming a few small inches taller Nos feels tiny next to the robot that he’s expected to listen to when not in Waterdeep.
“Nice to meetcha,” Nos puts on his best farmers son, trust me I’m just a back county hick smile that got Garhak to let him follow along and shakes the offered hand.
3.
They’ve been travelling for two days from Waterdeep to a town that’s only on regional maps. Phandalin. They’ve been sent there to figure out what’s going on by the Blackstaff and so far it’s been smooth travels. Very quickly the others learned not to let Nos drive the cart and now that job has been given solely to Buck, one of two goliaths in the group.
Nos is very glad his glasses hide his eyes because when he’d first met the two he could barely look at them without wanting to leave.
They’re still a day out from Phandalin and they’ve decided not to push it and make camp. Nos is taking first watch - that’s still hours away, though, so they’re all just winding down from the stress of travel. Buck is taking care of the horse. Ahriman is checking the map. Nos is trying his hand at cooking some supper and praying he doesn’t burn anything like he did last time he had to cook for himself. Galoril is off to the side, training, with the claim that with how quiet it’s been so far he needs to keep himself in shape.
Nos had nearly gone through the goliath for saying it but had managed to hold back. He’ll settle for just a very large I-told-you-so when something happens tomorrow.
Or tonight. Tonight’s a possibility too but Nos is hoping that karma will wait until tomorrow.
As the sun finally disappears behind the mountains to bathe the world in nighttime Nos sighs in relief and takes off his glasses. Finally. The strap was starting to itch.
“Soups done,” Nos announces. A pair of young rabbit that Buck caught, some rations from their bags, a couple wild vegetables and herbs that Nos found the night before. It smells pretty good if Nos does say so himself. Especially seeing as how he hasn’t actually properly cooked in years - usually he just gets something from one of the many food stalls around Waterdeep.
Buck comes first and then Galoril. Nos has already taken his own bowl and Ahriman doesn’t eat so Buck and Galoril end up splitting the rest.
Nos always thought he ate a lot. Being six foot seven and in a career that keeps you active simply so you can hold down unruly patients trying to refuse treatment will tend to keep your appetite up. When he looks at how much Buck and Galoril eat, though, Nos can’t help but feel like a child. The same thing used to happen when he ate with Garhak - then Nos had been a child though.
Instead Nos turns to keep an eye out while they’re eating. No need for them to be snuck up on.
4.
Goblins. Of course it’s goblins holding Phandalin hostage. Goblins and Bandits and what else? Why not orcs? Why not a dragon too?
Nos should’ve just stayed in prison. Eventually the Zhents would have need of him and get him out. Probably. If he asked, maybe pulled on a few favours he’s owed. Then he’d be safe at home napping in his comfy chair with all the curtains drawn so the damned sun doesn’t blind him every time he wakes up.
The whole group of people that the Blackstaff has stuck Nos with are monsters. Buck took out a goblin with one shot of his gun from sixty feet away, Ahriman took another two out with one spell from even farther, and Galoril had cut one into two pieces.
Nos hadn’t had to do anything at all. The fight was over before he’d even stood up and figured out where the goblins were.
He walks up to where the goblins are at Galoril’s feet. Only one is still breathing - only unconscious - so Nos slices its throat while mumbling a prayer to ease its passage. He doesn’t know any goblin prayers to goblin gods but hopefully one of the ones that Nos does know will do.
Then he looks at Galoril. Goblins had managed to get at least one hit in, maybe two, and Nos needs to know right now if Galoril needs healing or not. It’s still early in the day and they’ve all got a lot to do. So much to do.
Head, chest, waist, arms, Galoril’s armour seems have held up.
Nos moves to take Galoril’s sword but stops. He’s never actually been this close to it before in the week since the group started travelling together.
It’s as big as Nos is tall.
“The fuck, man?” Nos says, “Why’s your sword so damn big? You compensating for something?”
“Why’re you so damn little?” Buck says from just behind Nos. Nos turns and throws a rock at Buck and misses by a country mile because the sun is suddenly very bright and very behind Buck’s head.
“Fuck you, I’m taller than near everyone we meet y’all are just giants ,” Nos grumbles but Galoril has put his sword into its scabbard so now Nos can finish checking him over for injuries.
“This one thinks the one compensating might be you, Nos,” Ahriman pipes up and it’s all that Nos can do not to hit the wiry robot. No need to make his own job harder after all.
Maybe he’ll invest in some spell scrolls to be able to make them smaller once they’re back in Waterdeep. Bring them all down to his size.